


Far From Perfect

by d0g-bless (d0gbless)



Series: A New Breed of Training [6]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Lingerie, Post-Canon, Post-Series, Pregnancy, Pregnant Pidge, Shotgun Wedding, Suggestive Themes, Unplanned Pregnancy, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-02-28 20:13:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13279047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d0gbless/pseuds/d0g-bless
Summary: In which Shiro and Pidge hit a bump in the road in their wedding planning and rely on the help of their friends to pull together a shotgun wedding.





	Far From Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this fic and the lyrics in Shiro and Pidge's first dance are from Rise Against's "Far From Perfect."

Pidge swallowed the lump in her throat. She glared at her phone’s dust-flecked screen. Was this the right place? All of the people on that Reddit thread did say this was _the_ place to go.

Maybe this was a bad idea. She could just order a few online, right?

Pidge shook the thought out of her mind. _I’ve found and killed aliens in one of the most dangerous intergalactic wars. Getting properly fitted for a new bra is nothing._ She clenched her sweaty fists, then stood tall before entrance doors. The doors slid open with a _whoosh_.

 _I’m in._ Pidge entered the behemoth of a department store. Although it was only the start of September, it looked like this place had just finished a Halloween rager. Fake cobwebs dangled from the ceiling. Plastic jack o’ lanterns grinned at Pidge, who couldn’t help but wonder if they were taunting her. She didn’t look like a pumpkin, but she sure as hell felt like she’d eaten a dozen of them.

The pungent fumes of overpriced perfumes greeted Pidge before any employees did. Pidge clapped a hand over her mouth and pinched her nose with the other. Damn her heightened sense of smell! She fled the perfume section at what was perhaps not her record speed. In her defense, the first trimester of pregnancy wore her out.   _I am not going to puke here, I am not going to puke here, I am not going to puke—_

Eau de rotten egg blurred Pidge’s vision, which made it impossible to differentiate a person from a mannequin through her watering eyes.

She continued forward until she could barely detect the slightest trace of perfume. Though the stench no longer affected her nose, it made her stomach churn.

“Hello, welcome to Nordstrom!” A tall mannequin wearing a blonde wig, black dress slacks, and a pink shirt stepped out from behind a display.

No, wait. Pidge blinked until her vision cleared. That was an employee.

The woman continued in a chipper voice that was painful on the ear. “How can I help you?” On a scale of annoying sounds, Pidge placed the employee’s voice between nails on a chalkboard to _Alvin and the Chipmunks._

“Bathroom!” Pidge blurted out. “Where’s the nearest bathroom?”

Unfazed by the urgency in Pidge’s voice, she rattled off the nearest location. “Closest one is to the left, in-between the maternity and lingerie sections. Can’t miss it.”

Pidge snorted. _Go figure._ She thanked the employee, then scurried off to empty the contents of her stomach in the bathroom.

* * *

Dog-friendly.

If it’s outdoors, it must have shelter from the sun.

Those were the two conditions Pidge required for the wedding venue.

Shiro thought the first condition might be pushing things, but provided the dog was either well-behaved or a registered therapy or support animal, most places in Phoenix were willing to work with him.

It helped that he’d registered Halley for emotional support dog training classes. Suffice to say, training progressed slowly. Halley was a smart dog. Perhaps too smart. If only he could get her to use her intelligence for good instead of chewing on things that didn’t belong to her.

Maybe people were a bit more lenient because he was the retired Black Paladin. He never said it aloud or used it as a bargaining chip. People knew when they saw his name and his face.

Even so, that privilege only got him only so far. It didn’t stop people from putting him on hold or making him listen to dial tones or going to voicemail.

Unfeeling fingers clicked against the kitchen table, which was covered in pens, notebook pads, sticky notes, and a _Star Wars_ calendar. _Come on, come on!_

“Hello, Mr. Shirogane, sir?”

Shiro snapped up. “Just Shiro, please.”

“Yes, sir. You asked for the closest available date, and we have it.”

Shiro gave the Darth Vader staring up at him a pleading look. Surely if Vader had enough love left in him to save his son, surely the man could help him.

“The earliest availability we have is June 10. Does that work for you?”

Flipping through the pages of the twelve-month calendar, Shiro froze on April. A thick red marker had circled the square numbered 13. Neither he nor Pidge had written a single word on that date, but he knew what it meant.

Ten days after Pidge’s 27th birthday, he’d be a father. But as Pidge reminded him, due dates were estimates and nothing more. The odds were more likely for Pidge to go into labor around that date. Not necessarily _on_ it.

“I’m sorry. Are you sure you don’t have anything earlier than that?”

The man on the other end of the call sighed. “I’m sorry. We’re booked. But if someone drops, we’d let you know. But there’s a waitlist. There’s only so much we can do.”

“I understand. Thanks.” Shiro hung up and scratched the last venue from the list.

The cold chill of defeat settled into his bones.

* * *

One refilled bottle of water and a breath mint later, Pidge came out of the bathroom feeling a bit better. Though nervousness lingered at the back of her mind, it wouldn’t force her to lose her lunch.

Maybe looking at maternity clothes would keep the anxiety at bay for a little longer. There were a few expecting women looking around—definitely expecting, as their stomachs were as round as the moon.

Pidge avoided eye contact with these women, and instead looked through the rack of maternity bottoms. Her jeans were getting a little snug as it was, so it couldn’t hurt to try a few pairs on. She draped a couple of pairs over her arm. Now to find a dressing room… and get those measurements done.

Pidge scanned the store for employees in this area. It appeared empty, save for a woman with white curly hair standing at the customer service desk. If Pidge had to guess, this employee was anywhere from fifty-five to sixty-five years old. Maybe seventy.

Pidge approached the desk. “E-excuse me, ma’am?”

“Yes, dear?” Now that she was closer, Pidge noticed the lady wore measuring tape over her shoulders. She had the right person!

“Um, do you, uh, do measurements?”

She raised a white eyebrow.

“Like, for bras. You see, I’ve never really had a proper measurement or really ever _needed_ a bra until recently for, uh, reasons. I have no idea how this whole thing works, and I need help. Everyone online said that this is a good place to go, and I took their advice, and—“

The lady held up a hand. “I don’t need the story of your life, hon. Let’s get you a dressing room.”

Pidge followed the little old lady, who was faster than expected. Nimble, even. Her hands remained steady as she unlocked a door for Pidge. “I’m Margaret, but you can call me Marge.” She pushed the door open and gestured for Pidge to enter. “Shirt off, please.”

“Shirt and bra? Because I’m not wearing a bra, but I am wearing a camisole—“

“Shirt. I didn’t say take off your bra or camisole. Just your shirt.” Marge shook her head and muttered something about the dwindling attention span and listening ability of younger folks.

Pidge did as Marge instructed. Her necklace—the one Shiro had proposed to her with—jingled on its chain. Like a pendulum, it swung between her aching breasts, which looked as if they were about to spill over the camisole.

“That’s a beautiful necklace.” Marge took the measuring tape and wrapped it just below Pidge’s breasts. “34. Now put your arms up, like a policeman told you to put your hands up.”

Technically, they told you to put your hands behind your head, or at least where they could see them. And it wasn’t just police who said that. Those in charge of war prisoners were also experts at casually using that phrase.

But this wasn’t happening in a Galra prison camp. She did as she was told. “Thanks. My fiancé got it for me.”

“Fiancé, eh?” Marge clicked her tongue. “You two couldn’t wait, huh?” A wrinkled but well-manicured hand pressed the measuring tape against a breast.

Pidge winced at the contact. “I’m sorry?”

Marge tilted her head toward the maternity jeans.

A crimson flush burned Pidge’s face. “It’s not like that.”

“Mm-hm.” The employee’s voice dripped with condescension. Marge slipped the measuring tape over her shoulders like a feather boa. “Looks like you’re about a 34B. Avoid underwire, but since it seems you’re already shopping in the maternity section, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

Pidge averted her gaze. She started to thank Marge, but the pause in-between “thank” and “you” was interrupted by the old lady slamming the dressing room door.

A sigh of relief escaped from Pidge’s lungs.

If only the mortification she felt coloring her cheeks would do the same.

* * *

Pidge returned home with two shopping bags that contained two nursing bras, a pair of maternity jeans and dress pants, and a gift for Shiro. Of course, that didn’t include the unwanted hitch-hiker called Shame. Shame, however, wasn’t something that the worker ringing up her clothes could put in the bags. But Marge did a lovely job of making Pidge feel like she’d done something wrong with an icy glare.

For once, it was Shiro who arrived at the door first. Usually it was Halley. But today, Halley followed the man like she was his shadow. “Let me help you with that.” Metallic fingers gripped the bags’ handles and slipped them out of Pidge’s hold. “Judging by these—“ Shiro shook the bags. “—I’m guessing you had good luck today.”

“Something like that.” Eager to change the subject, she continued on. “When can we get married? I don’t think I can wait much longer.”

Shiro almost dropped the bags. With lightning-fast reflexes, he caught it before they hit the ground.

Halley huffed. Had she been a second faster, whatever was in the crinkly sacks would have been hers. She circled three times at the base of the sofa, then plopped onto the floor.

“Well,” he started, setting both bags on the coffee table. “I called them today. All of them. All thirty venues. None of them have openings within a month. And even if we did, we’d have to decide on the other things, like who to invite, who’s in charge of the food, reception location, so on and so forth.”

Fuck, that sounded like a shit ton of work. Listening and thinking about all this was exhausting. Work, pregnancy, and this shopping trip had already depleted most of her energy. Pidge collapsed onto the sofa. She stretched her legs out, using Halley as a recliner. God, she needed to recharge. “That’s going to take forever. Maybe we should just skip this whole thing.”

“Hey.” Shiro sat beside Pidge and took her hand. “We can do this. We’re going to do this.”

Pidge slipped free of Shiro’s hold with a groan. “Ugh, I don’t want to hear your inspirational forming Voltron speech.” She lowered her voice and puffed out her chest. “If we work together, we win together!”

Shiro made a sound reminiscent of a punch to the gut. “I do not sound like that!”

“Methinks the living fortune cookie doth protest too much.”

“Fortune cookie?” Black brows knitted in a frown. “That’s racist, Pidge.”

She dismissed his accusation with a wave of her hand. “Calling you a fortune cookie has nothing to do with your race in this context. It’s just the way you try to be all motivational and shit. For starters, you’re Japanese. Fortune cookies are associated with Chinese food, and technically, fortune cookies aren’t even Chinese, but American—“ she trailed off at Shiro’s withering glare. “Okay, yeah, that was racist.” She hung her head low. “I’m sorry.”

Shiro shot up and started for the kitchen. He ran a hand from his forehead to his chin and sighed. “It’s fine.”

Except it wasn’t. This was the “fine” Shiro relied on when things were anything but.

Almost mortally wounded in battle? “I’m fine. ‘Tis but a scratch.”

After an intense night terror? “I’m fine. Go back to bed.”

When Pidge left dirty dishes in the sink? “It’s fine. I’ll take care of it.”

“No. It’s not. Takashi Shirogane, talk to me.” Like a magnet, her forceful voice drew him back into the room—and made Halley flinch. Pidge stroked the giant dog’s fur. “It’s okay, Halley. It’s okay.”

Relieved, Halley rested her head on her massive forepaws. She eyed Metalpaw warily. In all the spent time with her family, she knew that Metalpaw would never lay a claw on Peanut. But she wasn’t about to take any chances.

He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his greying hair. “I feel like I failed us. Maybe it’s because I’m taking this like it’s a mission. And I’ve already failed step one. No venue means no wedding. And I want this to be perfect, or at least close to it.” He squeezed his eyes shut, envisioning clear skies. Visitors from all over the universe filling the venue’s seats. Standing as the music starts up, straining his eyes to see Pidge in a wedding gown. Sam walking Pidge down the aisle, giving her one final hug before letting her go. “But that’s not going to happen. Worst of all, I haven’t even thought about what you want. If you even wanted this wedding in the first place. I’m sorry.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Pidge took his face in her hands. She pressed her forehead against his. “Listen to me. If I didn’t want it, I would have said so. I could have said no when you proposed.  And what did I say?”

“Yes, but—“

“Yes. I said yes. And frankly, if you wanted to go to the courthouse instead of having a fancy ceremony, we would have gone the day after. Especially if it would’ve saved me from the lady at Nordstrom’s who probably would have given me a pamphlet as to why having sex before marriage will send me to hell.”

“Oh my God, why didn’t you tell me? How did she know?”

Her reddening face fell. “I’m kind of growing out of my clothes. I picked up some new clothes from the maternity section. And she noticed.”

“Already?”

“Yeah.”

That explained why she’d suggested skipping the wedding.

And maybe they could.

“A courthouse wedding.” A slowness overcame his voice. “Is that what you want? The two of us eloping and getting a marriage license?”

“Something like that.” Pidge gave him a half-smile. “I don’t want to elope, but I don’t want a huge event that we’d have to plan. Something with the three of us—“

“Four.”

“The fourth person isn’t a person by legal definition, Shiro.”

“Neither is Halley.”

Pidge shot him a glare. “But for our purposes, sure, four. I’d like Mom and Matt to be there.”

“And the Paladins?”

She snorted. “Of course. Don’t forget Coran and Allura.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

* * *

In the state of Arizona, a marriage license:

  * Costs a fee of $78, payable by cash or money order, bank guarantee card or credit card.
  * Requires both parties to be present, with each individual providing a valid form of government-issued ID.
  * Must be issued prior to the ceremony taking place, signed at completion of the ceremony by officiant and two witnesses, and returned by the officiator not more than 30 days after the ceremony has taken place in order for the license to be recorded.
  * Is given on the same day the parties apply for the license. The parties can be married on the same day, if they have made arrangements with an officiator of their choice to perform the ceremony. However, the parties have up to one (1) year from the date the marriage license was issued to get married, as the license expires one (1) year from the date of purchase.



At 3 a.m., Shiro woke up to the sound of rapid bullet firing. He jerked his head around, trying to find the assailant in the lightless room.

Halley snored, which gave Shiro some peace of mind. But she wasn’t a guard dog, let alone a fully trained emotional support dog. Or a well-trained dog, for that matter.

But her snore wasn’t the sound he’d heard.

The attacker, however, lay next to him, propped up by a pillow. Pidge’s dainty fingers slammed down on her laptop’s keyboard. A graceful sight, but not a graceful sound.

“What are you doing on your computer at 3 o'clock in the morning?”

She dodged his question with an answer at least three steps ahead. “See this? We still need to have a ceremony with an officiant.”

“How about Allura?” Shiro suggested mid-yawn.

“Allura?” Pidge furrowed her brows. “Is she even licensed to officiate weddings here?”

Shiro shrugged. “Dunno. But I know you need to get some sleep.”

His suggestion fell on deaf ears. “Well, she _is_ an intergalactic princess. Surely that counts for something. How could state officials argue with that? Hey!”

Shiro closed Pidge’s laptop. “Sleep.”

“Fine,” she grumbled. “But I’m not doing it for you.”

* * *

Lance wondered why Keith had insisted on owning a landline. Everyone—literally everyone—used smartphones. If an employer didn’t provide workers with one, Androids and iPhones were government-issued.

Well, everyone except Keith, apparently, who’d missed the memo.

Then again, this was Keith’s land, so he did what he wanted. Within reason, of course.

The shack—or “cabin,” as Keith called it—had belonged to Keith’s father, who’d willed the land to his son. As for the land around it, it was almost all parched desert, save for a few oases. No man’s land. Which was fortunate, as its lack of desirability made the land affordable.

Once the Paladins had returned to Earth, the Galaxy Garrison had a lot explaining to do. With a giant robotic superweapon in the hands of a few vocal Garrison students and a coalition of alien allies, the Garrison’s top brass knew hush money was useless.

The Paladins’ families—or the lack thereof, in Shiro and Keith’s cases—slammed the Garrison with lawsuit after lawsuit. Each Paladins’ family wanted something a little different in each case. As a collective group, the families demanded that the Garrison publicly admit their failings and apologize for lying to everyone about everything. And Colleen Holt, a brilliant lawyer who knew law like the back of her hand, meant _everything_ , from her husband’s death to the Kerberos cover-up to publically confirming the existence of aliens.

Lance’s family was grateful to have their son back. They didn’t want money. As for Lance, all he wanted was to keep Kaltenecker. But his family lacked the means to keep a cow in their crowded little home. They’d have to sell him to a farm. Lance knew what happened to cows on most farms, having worked on a few part-time before attending the Garrison. Cows like Kaltenecker would live out their life as breeders and milk producers, or they’d wind up on someone’s plate as a well-done steak or Big Mac.

While Keith didn’t have a family or much of a case against the Garrison as an expelled student, he did demand one thing: Money.

The Garrison settled on an amount with Keith, who then bought the land surrounding the cabin. With some help from Hunk, Keith built a barn for Lance’s beloved cow and expanded the cabin into something bigger than a one-room shack. Thus, The Ranch was born.

So when the stupid phone nearly rattled itself of its hook at six o’clock sharp, Lance hollered, “Keith, phone!” then planted his face into a pillow.

“Getting it!” Keith shouted from downstairs. He took the phone and answered it. He leaned against a cool wooden wall, relishing the scent of cedar and pine. “Morning, Shiro.”

“Morning—Wait. How’d you know it was me?”

A cool smile settled on Keith’s lips. “You and I are the only ones who ever get up this early.” If the Garrison had trained them well on one thing, it was waking up early. The others, not so much. But the military regimen of waking up at the crack of dawn for training set in early for Shiro and Keith.

Shiro chuckled. “Right, sorry—“

“What have we said about your ‘sorries’? Stop apologizing.”

“Sor— I mean, okay. It’s been a hectic couple of weeks over here with planning the wedding.”

“I’d almost forgotten about that. Congrats, by the way.”

“Thanks. We’ve hit a little bump in the road with finding a venue.” Shiro paused. “We haven’t told anyone, but I trust you, and I know you won’t tell anyone. We’re on a time crunch because—” his voice dropped to a whisper. “Pidge is pregnant.”

“Um, wow.”

“I know, it’s hard to believe.”

Keith snorted. “It’s even harder to believe that didn’t happen sooner.” Given the number of times he’d almost walked in on Shiro and Pidge in the Castle—and the one time he did—it was a miracle nothing happened.

“I’m serious, Keith. I need your help.” Raw desperation clawed at Shiro’s voice. “Please.”

“Anything for you, Shiro.”

“We need a location. After talking with Pidge, we thought The Ranch would be perfect. It’s not far from everyone, Allura has a teludav warp point set up there, there’s shade, and I’m pretty sure the place is dog-friendly.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother, but we’re desperate to find a place.”

“I’m sure, Shiro. Lance and I will start getting the place set up today. It’ll be ready whenever you and Pidge are ready.”

Shiro gave an audible sigh of relief. “And could I ask you one more favor?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll need a witness to sign the marriage license, Pidge and I thought we’d have our witnesses be like a best man and maid of honor type of thing. Pidge says Matt has agreed to be her witness-slash-maid-of-honor-thing. As my closest, best friend, would you be my best man?”

“It’d be an honor.” Keith made a Galaxy Garrison salute. “I’ll wake up Lance so we can get to work right away. Tell Pidge there’s nothing to worry about. And again, congrats.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Keith. Thank you. I’ll be seeing you soon then.” With that, Shiro hung up.

Keith cracked his knuckles.

Time to get to work.

* * *

Five days and $78 later, Shiro and Pidge left the courthouse with a packet of paperwork and drove off to The Ranch. There, they would rendezvous with the Holts, who had promised to drive Halley there.

“Shiro, this is it,” Pidge said as the car rolled into a smooth stop. Its wheels kicked up red clouds of dust behind it. “We only have a few hours before we’re confined by the shackles of marriage.”

“You don’t really think of it like that, do you?”

“Of course not.”

“Good.” Shiro smiled. “You look beautiful today, you know that?”

Pidge arched a sly brow. “Trying to get into my pants before the wedding? For shame! You can’t wait another day, can you?”

Shiro burst into laughter, and Pidge’s own snorts and giggles joined his in a chorus of chortles. It took them a couple of minutes to catch their breaths. Shiro started to wipe the tears streaming down his face with his sleeve, but Pidge beat him to it. “Can’t have you ruining your rental tux.”

“Fair enough, but don’t ruin your dress.” The car’s engine died down. Shiro got out of the car, slamming the door behind him. He walked around to the passenger’s side to hold the door open for Pidge. Shiro didn’t do it out of chivalry, but simply out of kindness.

Dress? Pidge mouthed the word. What dress? “I don’t have a dress. I was just going to wear my best clothes from work.” She tugged at the fabric of her new elastic waisted capris. She wore that and a loose T-shirt.

“Not on my watch, you’re not.” Colleen Holt rose from the rocking chair on the cabin porch with Halley at her heels. “Let’s get you inside. Lance and Allura are dying to do your hair and make-up.”

Pidge looked to Shiro. “I take it you’re going to stay back here?”

He nodded. “I’ll see if Keith and Hunk need help setting anything else up in the barn. Next time I see you, it’ll be when you’re walking down the aisle.” Something Pidge couldn’t detect sparked in Shiro’s eyes. “Oh, that reminds me.” Shiro slid a hand into his pants pocket and pulled out a white flower. Upon closer inspection, the flower had eight silk petals and a presumably synthetic emerald set in its center.

“It’s a very nice flower.”

“It’s not a flower.” Shiro slipped what felt like a fine-toothed comb into Pidge’s thick brown hair. “It’s a _kanzashi._ A decorative hairpiece. I thought it suited you better than a veil would.”

Pidge stood on her tiptoes to give Shiro a chaste kiss. “Thank you.” A tap on her shoulder reminded her that they were on a schedule. “I’m coming, Mom!”

With a lovestruck expression on his face, Shiro watched Colleen escort his fiancée inside the cabin. No matter what she wore today, be it tattered workout clothes or the most extravagant dress, he loved Pidge all the same.

* * *

Excitement permeated the air. Halley picked up a few other scents: Dried grasses, manure, and a giant black and white horned creature with hardened toe-less paws. After introducing herself as Kaltenecker, the strange creature informed the dog that her kind were called “cows.”

Kaltenecker was very fond of one human in particular: A tall one with long limbs who smelled like fresh water and sand. His shape and overall lankiness reminded Halley of one of her favorite toys back home, earning him the name “Tug Rope.”

Halley liked Tug Rope, but not as much as the man who she had met before Metalpaw. This man, who smelled an awful lot like Tug Rope, brought her out of the Scary Place and introduced her to Metalpaw. He’d scared Halley at first, but he’d guided her into her forever home, which was why she called him “Shepard.”

Shepard whistled three times, which meant Halley had to go. She whined an apology to Kaltenecker, who had gotten to the good part of her story. The cow made a reassuring sound and nudged the dog to go.

“Halley, come here!”

Metalpaw! Halley yipped. She ran as fast as her four legs could propel her. Metalpaw, Metalpaw! She tensed her haunches before leaping up to greet him with her paws pressed against his chest. It’s been forever since I’ve last seen you, she said. I was worried you’d forgotten about me.

Shiro laughed as she ran her tongue all over his face. “It’s good to see you, too, Halley. Now get down!” He shoved her off of him.

“I still can’t believe how big she’s gotten,” Keith said. He dropped to his knees. “Halley, come here!”

Come? Her tag wagged furiously. She knew that one. She pranced over to Shepherd, who gave her a hug and the best behind-the-ear scratch.

Shiro grinned at the sight of Keith and Halley’s reunion. “Looks like she still remembers you after all this time.” He turned his attention to Hunk. “Can I help with anything?”

“No, sir.” Hunk started to shake his head but stopped. “Actually, what frosting flavor do you want on the cake? I’d asked Pidge if she wanted my peanut butter frosting, you know, the one she absolutely loves and would eat until she got sick if I made unlimited amounts. And the weirdest thing happened: She said she didn’t want my peanut butter frosting!”

Keith forced himself to keep his attention centered on Halley. He felt Shiro’s eyes wandering to him for help. Every part of him fought back the urge to meet Shiro’s worried expression. If their gazes met, surely Hunk would figure out Shiro and Pidge’s secret.

“I don’t have a preference, but I should probably go talk with Pidge about it.” Shiro brushed Halley’s dusty paw prints off his tux, then started for the cabin.

“Halley, stay.” Keith stood up and sped after him. “Shiro, you sure that’s a good idea? Isn’t it bad luck or something to see her in a wedding dress?”

Shiro stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Since when have you been superstitious?”

* * *

Pidge’s friends bombarded her with affection the moment she stepped into the cabin.

“Oh, Pidge, it has been such a long time!” Allura embraced the shorter woman. The princess’ hugs improved in terms of tightness. She’d gone from breaking a rib to nearly suffocating those she hugged.

Pidge inhaled sharply and winced. Damn her overly sensitive breasts. “It’s good to see you, too,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Are you alright? It has been so long since I’ve last seen you and the others, I suppose I have forgotten how weak humans can be.”

“Or perhaps you’ve forgotten how strong you are, Allura.” Lance beamed at Pidge. “Hey, congrats on the big day.” He clapped a hand on her shoulder.

Allura gave her a once-over. “Lance, perhaps it is just me, but does Pidge seem different to you?”

Before Lance could reply, Colleen cleared her throat. “We can all catch up as we get her ready. Can’t keep the groom waiting too long.”

Pidge flashed her mom a grateful smile. “So, where’s this dress you’ve been hiding from me?”

“Hiding?” Colleen laughed. “Katie, you’ve seen this dress before.” She led Pidge and the others into Keith’s office.

For Keith, the office was sacred ground. Only his most trusted friends—namely, the Paladins and a handful of Blades—were allowed access. It was the place they’d all met before finding Blue. The yellowing red-marked map that had matched Hunk’s Fraunhofer lines hung on the wall.

Of course, it had been the place Keith and his father had called home so many years ago. Keith had refused to change this room as he and Hunk worked to expand the place into something bigger and better.

The fact that Keith allowed her to change in here, let alone walk in here, spoke volumes to Pidge. She reminded herself to thank him later. Her brother’s voice drew her out of her thoughts.

Matt gave a princely bow. “As your best man, I am here to present your dress. I’ve been guarding it with my life for the past—“ he looked to his mother. “How long has it been?”

Allura supplied Matt with an estimate of “about 25 doboshes.”

“Yes. That. And what a long 25 doboshes it has been.” With a cunning grin and wink, Matt added, “Though it has been much longer since I have last since the beauty of Altea’s last princess.”

Four sets of eyes glared at him.

Matt cleared his throat. “Right. Dress is hanging in the closet. Should I go get it or—?”

Pidge was already there, wearing a wide-eyed expression. Her hand flew to her mouth. Colleen was right. Pidge had seen this dress before: in her parents’ wedding photos. A long white dress with a lavender bow tied under the bust. Grecian ripples cascaded down the front of the dress like a waterfall. It was accentuated by a train that billowed from behind like a cape.

Upon closer inspection, Pidge caught a couple of differences. Colleen’s white dress had sleeves down all the way to her wrists. This one had no sleeves, but wavy straps made from leftover fabric. It was a bit shorter than she remembered, but not by much. Just long enough to cover her sneakers but short enough to avoid tripping over the skirts.

“Do you like it?” Lance asked. “Mrs. Holt asked me to do some alterations. It should be in your size, but I can make some quick adjustments.”

Pidge’s hand wandered to her belly. Shiro had promised her she wasn’t showing. She swallowed hard. Hopefully he wasn’t just saying that. Pidge drew her hand back to her side, then looked at Lance. “I love it,” she said, cracking a smile. “You really did know how to thread the needle, didn’t you?”

Lance chuckled. “I always did, Pidgey.” He ruffled her hair. “Man, your hair’s crazy thick and shiny. You’ll have to tell me your secret.”

Prenatal vitamins and hormones, probably. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“My sister has a secret?” Matt clutched his chest and gasped in horror. “What could she possibly be hiding from me?”

Oh, shit.

“Pidge?” The walls muffled Shiro’s voice. “Pidge, where are you?”

Oh, _shit._ “What’s Shiro doing here?” Pidge hissed. “He can’t see me!”

“Why not?” Allura cocked her head to the side. “Is it a tradition for the human male to blind himself before he is wed?”

Colleen laughed. It had been awhile since she’d last seen the Altean princess. Of course human marriage traditions would go over her head. “It’s considered bad luck for the man to see the bride in her wedding dress before they’re married.”

“Oh.” Allura sounded mildly disappointed. “Well, I don’t see why he couldn’t come in.”

“No!”

All heads turned to Pidge.

“I don’t believe in bad luck, but it’s Shiro, you guys. He’s been through way too much already, and I don’t want to risk it.” Pidge pulled at a loose strand of hair. “I know it sounds silly and stuff, but…”

Colleen nodded. “Allura? Lance?”

The two made eye contact with one another and said in unison, “We’re on it.” Off the pair went, determined to rid the cabin of Shiro’s presence.

Pidge let out a sigh of relief. “That was a close call.”

“No kidding.” Matt grabbed the dress by its hanger and freed white fabric from a protective plastic dry-cleaners bag. “Shall we?”

Right now? Pidge considered her options. If she refused to change with her family’s assistance, they’d figure everything out. Maybe her mom and brother already knew. What if they’d planned this, just to corner her about the pregnancy? Maybe this whole thing was a setup. But her mother had gone to so much trouble to alter her wedding dress for her to reuse it. Her mind flashed images of her parents’ wedding photos before her. “I can’t wear your dress, Mom.” Pidge’s lower lip trembled. “What would Dad think? This was the dress you wore when you married him.”

“This?” Colleen tugged at the dress’ train. “This is not the same dress I wore. And your father would have loved to see you in this.”

Pidge’s vision blurred. “I know he would. It’s just, he’s not here. He’s not going to walk me down the aisle.” She rubbed her cheek, smearing a fat teardrop across her face. “I wish he were here to see this.”

“We all do, Pidge.” Matt handed his sister a handkerchief. “I don’t want to tell you how you should feel on your wedding day, but brides shouldn’t be the one who cries today. That’s my job.”

“And mine,” Colleen added. “I know I’m not your dad, but I am honored you asked me to walk you down the aisle today. And I would be honored if you wore my dress. If you don’t want to, that’s okay. This is your day. We are here to help make things easier for you. Just talk to us.”

“Exactly,” Matt said. “You can be bridezilla today, and we wouldn’t judge you for it or anything.”

The weight on Pidge’s shoulders vanished. She managed a smile through her sobs. “Really? Anything?”

“Of course, Katie,” Colleen said. “We’re your family. We’re here for you no matter what.”

“Okay, then. Here goes.” Pidge inhaled a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “I’m pregnant.” She braced herself for her family’s whirlwind of reactions.

Instead, she felt the warmth of her mother’s embrace and heard her brother’s laughter. Wait. Matt was laughing?

Once his giggles subsided, Matt cleared his throat. “Oh, wait, you thought I didn’t know?”

“No.” Pidge smiled sheepishly. “Was it obvious?”

“I mean, a last-minute wedding invitation out on a farm? Yeah, it’s pretty obvious.”

“Congratulations!” Colleen squeezed her daughter tighter. “How far along are you?”

“Eight weeks.”

Colleen shuddered. “First trimester is miserable. If you need anything, you let me know. And I mean anything.”

Warmth spread through Pidge’s chest. Of course her family would be supportive. She blinked back tears welling up in her eyes. How on earth could she ever think otherwise?

* * *

Shiro tugged at his tie for the third time in five minutes. “Keith, are you sure I have this on right?”

“I’m sure of it.” Keith lied through his teeth, but he needed his best friend to calm down. Definitely not one of Keith’s best skills. Maybe not a skill at all. “Pidge and her mom are going to walk up the aisle any second now.” Keith pointed at the path he and Lance had arranged between rows of seats.

“I am not certain you have that strange article of clothing on correctly, but I cannot say I am familiar with ‘ties.’”

Keith shot Allura an icy glare.

“What? It could be he does have it on correctly. I am not certain either way.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “Point is, Shiro, it’s not worth worrying about. And Pidge isn’t going to care if it’s perfect or not.”

Shiro managed a nod. What Keith said was true: Pidge didn’t give a damn about social norms or perfections. Still, it didn’t ease his nerves.

At least he’d managed to get an answer out of Pidge for frosting flavor. With Lance “on the inside,” Shiro texted him questions meant for Pidge, and Lance promptly forwarded Pidge’s answers.

Frosting flavor? Vanilla.

Three whistles hit the air.

“That’s the signal,” Keith said. “Everyone, get in position.”

Coran and the Paladins scattered to their respective chairs. Allura, as officiant, stood below the trellis Keith had made for the event. Matt stood to one side; Keith, the other, next to Shiro.

The small wedding party stood upright and turned to the far end of the aisle.

The bride was a sight to behold. A sight, as cliché as it was, that nearly took Shiro’s breath away. Pidge’s caramel locks fell to her upper back, save for a section pinned back into a bun with the _kanzashi_ Shiro had given her hours ago.

And the dress she wore? Truly one of a kind. Orange desert sand dusted the train trailing Pidge. Neither Pidge nor her mother seemed to mind. The two women walked hand-in-hand down the aisle. Time seemed to stop in that moment. Neither too fast nor too slow. Time no longer made sense. She was walking down the aisle, then she stood across from him. Physics no longer made sense, either.

The moment Pidge stood across from him, Shiro knew everything was going to be okay. Not perfect. Far from it. And that was fine by him.

Pidge entranced him. Everything about her did. Her smile, her laugh, her brains, her loyalty, her determination, all of it. Everything. He would let himself drown in the golden warmth of her eyes.

If Pidge hadn’t started her vows, he just might have been a goner.

“I’ve never been the best with words. So instead of rambling up here, I want to show Shiro and all those who are here today how I feel about him.” She whistled. “Halley, come!”

Sure enough, the giant dog sprang into action. She padded up the aisle, tail wagging furiously. Pidge praised Halley with a “good girl” and scratch behind the ear, then dug something out of a pocket in the dog’s harness.

“Years ago, we found ourselves saving Olkarion. And as most of you here recall, Olkarion’s natural resources meld themselves into a different shape or form with touch and binary code.” She held out a simple black stone for Shiro to see. Pidge closed her eyes and concentrated with all her might.

Coding came naturally to her, but she had to make this the best thing she ever created using Olkarion material. The smooth rock, half the size of Pidge’s hand, glowed neon green. Its form changed in the blink of an eye, from a smooth not-quite-pebble into a lion. And not just any lion. The Black Lion.

Pidge pressed the Black Lion charm into Shiro’s palm. She spoke softly, loud enough for only Shiro to hear. “I hope you like it.”

“I do.” With a gentle nudge of his fingers, Shiro tilted Pidge’s chin up to meet his lips in a gentle kiss. She tasted like mint, though he picked up a hint of cherry. The softness of her lips threw him for a loop, as they were almost always chapped and dry, scraping against his. He drew back quickly.

“Oh, come on!” Lance threw his hands up in the air. “Shiro, is that seriously the best kiss you’ve got? Lame. Ouch!” A somewhat playful smack in the back of the head from Hunk silenced Lance’s jeers.

“Well, I don’t think I’m going to be able to best Pidge at her vow. She beats me at everything. You couldn’t let me have this one thing, could you, Pidge?”

She tossed her head and grinned. “Never.”

The small audience of friends and family laughed.

“‘Never.’ That’s what I thought about the odds of surviving a war in space. And finding the love of my life up there? Never thought it would happen. But I was wrong. I’m glad someone was right, and that someone was always you, Pidge. I promise to be there for everything, to support you in all that you do, and to be the best husband I can be. I love you.”

There were a few seconds of silence. Shiro and Pidge both looked to Allura, who then fumbled with the digital script she held in front of her. “While this wedding is a celebration of love and commitment, it is also a legal ceremony. I ask the best men to join me and the bride and groom… below the thing we are standing under.”

“A trellis,” Pidge said. “It’s called a trellis. Certain kinds of plants like ivy grow on it.”

Allura sighed. “I am trying my best, thank you very much. Now just go ahead and sign the quiznaking thing, will you?”

And so they did.

“By the power vested in me as Princess of Altea, diplomat of the intergalactic alliances amongst many other titles, now including wedding officiant of the state of Arizona, I pronounce the Black and Green Paladins, Katie ‘Pidge’ Holt and Takashi Shirogane, as newlyweds. If you would, please seal this proclamation with a kiss.”

Shiro leaned in once more, but Pidge cut him short. “Oh, no. You got your kiss earlier. It’s my turn.” She stood on her tiptoes and ran a hand over the side of Shiro’s face until she felt the hair on the nape of his neck. Her lips crashed into his in a hungry kiss, like she hadn’t been kissed in years. A kiss of sheer passion.

“Sis, come on, that’s nasty.”

Pidge flipped her brother the bird with a free hand, then finally pulled back, gasping for air. “No. _That’s_ better.”

Shiro couldn’t bring himself to disagree.

* * *

Everything overwhelmed Halley’s senses. Music blaring from the loudspeakers mingled with the laughter and cheers of voices she didn’t entirely recognize, blasted her sensitive ears. The overpowering scent of sugary desserts made the dog’s stomach churn. Or maybe that was due to the table scraps people kept giving her.

Either way, the commotion of the wedding reception was far too much for Halley. She found sanctuary beneath a table covered in billowing white fabric. The tablecloth helped alleviate the sounds and smells.

The sound of guitars and the rough vocals slowed and grew softer: _“We are far from perfect / But perfect as we are / We are bruised, we are broken / But we are goddamn works of art / Works of art…”_

Halley peeked out from under the table and watched Metalpaw and Peanut walk. It wasn’t exactly walking. They held one another’s forepaws, and their strides were longer and faster. Peanut twirled in a way that made Halley think her human was trying to catch her tail. Did Peanut know she didn’t have one?

Metalpaw drew Peanut in close to his broad chest and whispered into her ear. The distance, accompanied by all the sounds, made it impossible for Halley to hear what he told Peanut. But that was okay.

Those words had been meant for Peanut, and only for her. And whatever Metalpaw had just said must’ve made her very happy, judging by the blinding smile surfacing on her face. Since her humans were happy, so was she.

An unfamiliar shoe blocked Halley’s line of sight and stopped short of the dog’s nose, which got a good whiff of watery hot dogs and human feet. The dog sneezed at the strange scent.

“I am appalled at the lack of nunvil at human wedding ceremonies. Back on Altea, everyone would have been downing the stuff until there was none left. But Hunk, your ‘cake’ is divine.”

“Coran, you are drinking nunvil,” Hunk said.

Coran huffed and took another sip of the foul-tasting liquid. “Of course I am. I had to bring my entire supply of the stuff. I’ve been rationing it for years, and I don’t know if it will be possible to make anything quite like it again.”

“I think I might have something even better than nunvil, actually.” Hunk grabbed a bottle of Champaign and popped it open. The bubbly drink fizzed into a glass. “Try some.”

Coran drained his glass. “Oh, I do like that! May I have another?” He held it out to Hunk for a refill.

“Go easy on it,” Hunk said as he refilled the contents of Coran’s class. “It’s strong stuff. Like that holiday Altean grog you love.” Hunk shoved the cork back into the Champaign bottle and began to go around filling people’s empty glasses. He stopped at Shiro and Pidge’s table, which had been vacant moments ago; now the newlyweds and Keith and Lance occupied it. “Wow, I’m surprised the married couple aren’t back on the dance floor. Not that there’s anything wrong with taking a break for the night.”

“A break?” Pidge repeated. “Oh, no, it’s not a break. I am exhausted. I think the first dance is my last for the night.”

“Pidge isn’t feeling well,” Shiro said. He quickly added, “I think I spun her around too much.”

Lance, teetering between tipsy and drunk, laughed. “Spun Pidge around too much?” He blew a raspberry. “Yeah, right! She was always doing those crazy spins in Green. I’d expect Hunk to get motion sick from dancing, but Pidge? Nah.”

Keith shot Lance a dirty look.

Hunk’s focus went back to Pidge. She looked like she felt sick to her stomach. Man, that was a feeling he was way too familiar with. “Aw, sorry to hear that. You know, when I got sick when I piloted the Yellow Lion, I figured out that having a drink or a snack helped keep the puke down. Do you need something to drink? We’ve got wine, Champaign, and pop. Oh, and Coran brought nunvil.”

Lance burst into laughter. It was like Hunk’s list of drinks was the best joke he’d ever heard. “Hunk, you can’t offer those drinks to a pregnant lady!” he exclaimed.

Pidge pretended she didn’t hear Lance shout that at the top of his lungs. “Water’s fine, Hunk.” She fanned her face, which she felt grow hotter and redder by the second.

Sensing confrontation on the near horizon, Hunk wandered off to go get Pidge water. Hopefully by the time he was back, things would be calm.

Shiro whirled around on Keith and glared. “I asked you not to tell anyone,” Shiro hissed. “How could you?”

“I didn’t.” Solemnity kept Keith’s voice and gaze steady. “I haven’t told anyone, Shiro. I swear.”

Lance butted back into the conversation. “Keith didn’t tell me shit. I mean, it’s obvious. Sloppily planned wedding, no peanut butter anything, and our Pidge finally has a figure if you know what I mean.”

“Dude, I’m a married woman. Do you just go around ogling women’s assets?”

Lance held up a hand. “In my defense, you weren’t married until an hour ago. And no, I don’t.” He frowned. “No, wait, let me reword that. That was bad, wasn’t it? I mean, I wasn’t ogling you because you weren’t married…  _shit,_ that’s worse.”

Shiro held his head in his hands and groaned. There were plenty of bad drunks out there, but Lance was the worst. The guy was a lightweight, but he was a talkative lightweight with no filter.

Keith elbowed Lance in the side. “Shut. Up.”

Hunk returned with bottled water for Pidge, who quietly thanked him. “So, uh, I guess this means a second congratulations? First for marriage, second for a baby?”

Pidge took a sip of water. The corners of her mouth turned upwards in a soft smile. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

“Hold up, hold up,” Lance interjected. “Does this mean we’re uncles?”

“Uncles?” Allura stepped in to join the Paladins at their table. “Who’s an uncle?”

Pidge grudged a smile. She’d hoped to keep this whole thing under wraps for a little bit longer, but her cover was blown.

Fuck it.

“Well, Matt, Lance, Keith, and Hunk will be uncles.” Pidge’s forced smile grew into a more natural, sneaky one. “And I guess you’re an aunt.”

Allura whooped. “That is most exciting news, Pidge! You will have to tell me every single little detail about human reproduction, as I know little of it. Do humans lay eggs? Or do they have pouches to carry their young in? What is the average gestation of a human as opposed to a mouse? Oh, I cannot wait to learn all of the details!”

Shiro watched Allura’s expression fall or wrinkle with disgust as his beautiful, brilliant fiancée—no, his wife—filled the princess in on those details. He loved listening to Pidge’s voice rapidly explain concepts he understood about love and life. He loved her smile, her tiny frame, her sarcasm, her everything.

He couldn’t wait to go home and spend the rest of his life with her.

* * *

Ever the gentleman, Shiro held the door for Pidge and Halley as they entered their home late that night.

Keith told Shiro to go home and not to worry about cleaning up. Though Shiro had been reluctant to do so, he did as Keith told him. Besides, Pidge’s nausea only grew worse throughout the night. Keeping here there while cleaning up would’ve been more trouble than simply leaving.

The couple ascended the stairs in silence, making their way to their bedroom. Shiro undressed in silence.

The bed’s springs squeaked as Pidge sank into its mattress. “I’m sorry I ruined today.”

Shiro hung his rental tux in the closet. “What are you talking about?”

“I made you leave early.”

Shiro settled down beside his wife. “You didn’t ruin anything. This whole thing’s my fault anyway.”

“What is? The wedding or the pregnancy?”

“Both?” Shiro said, voice wavering. “If anyone should be apologizing, it’s me. I wish I could’ve gotten us something special tonight. Like a honeymoon suite or something.”

“Gross.”

Shiro laughed. “Yeah, I should’ve figured you’d hate that. But you deserve something better than a night snuggling with me.”

It was Pidge’s turn to laugh. “What makes you think I just want to snuggle tonight? Hey, do me a favor and unzip this dress?”

“Oh, sorry.” His hands shook as he pulled down on the zipper. It was silly. This was far from his first time—or hers. But for some reason, this felt different tonight. He wanted this to be like the first time. And in a way, it was. This was going to be his first night sleeping as a married man.

Shiro’s breath hitched when the thick white fabric crumpled to the floor. Where there had once been a woman dressed in pure white, there was now Pidge dressed in emerald panties and a bra, visible beneath a sheer black babydoll.

“Do you like it? I got it a couple days ago during that awful shopping trip. I… kinda knew we didn’t have anything planned for a honeymoon, so I hope this is alright? And on second thought, I think I’m feeling more up for snuggling than anything else, and I—“

Shiro caught her words straight from her lips in a hungry kiss. He broke it off and grinned. “Of course that’s alright. More than alright. You look beautiful. Perfect.”

* * *

That night, Shiro cradled Pidge in his arms as she slept, one hand resting on her belly. With Halley sleeping at the foot of the bed and the knowledge that Pidge and his unborn child were safe, Shiro could drift off to sleep.

While the Shirogane-Holts’ wedding was far from perfect, this moment was as close to perfect as their lives would ever be.

**Author's Note:**

> Also, for those of you who are really loving this series and might want extra content, feel free to follow shidge-and-a-dog.tumblr.com. I will accept writing requests from time to time there.


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